


The Things We Do For Love

by orphan_account



Category: Magi: The Labyrinth of Magic
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Crossdressing Kink, Ja'far discovers a kink he didn't know he had, M/M, Pisti is a mastermind, Sinbad enjoys a kink he definitely knew he had, Stilettos are involved
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-26
Updated: 2015-02-26
Packaged: 2018-03-15 08:02:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,583
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3439652
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The man in the mirror stared back at him, clearly out of his depth. But besides the wide eyes and slight frown, he looked good. Long fingers smoothed a wrinkle in the skirt of the dress, and he took a tentative step forward, making sure that he would not, in fact, twist his ankle. The feeling of walking that way felt unnatural, but not so strange that he couldn’t get used to it. And, he figured, they wouldn’t be on for long once Sin saw him. </p><p>The only thing left to do was wait.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Things We Do For Love

**Author's Note:**

  * For [AdventTraitor](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AdventTraitor/gifts).



Ja’far stared into the full length mirror, lips pursed so tightly they almost seemed to disappear. Green silk wrapped around his body, hugging his waist in a way Pisti had assured him Sinbad would love. He wasn’t entirely sure. The dress was obviously made for someone with a curvier body, someone with actual _hips_ for one thing, and as he lacked them, he felt it didn’t quite have the shape she intended. And the chest! The chest obviously was meant for, well, someone with breasts, although his friend had done her best to find one that wouldn’t accentuate it.

For a brief moment, he thought about tearing it off and throwing it out the window. It had been a bad idea, a horrible idea, one fueled by his desperation to get Sinbad a present and Pisti’s suggestion. She was the only one of their friends, except perhaps Masrur, that he trusted not to tell a soul. If Sharrkan or Yamraiha got word… he didn’t want to imagine it. He’d never live it down; he’d have to go into hiding in a far off country. But Pisti, Pisti he could trust.

Growling slightly, he moved to take off the wrap dress, pausing at his own reflection. The dark green _did_ make his skin look nice, he had to admit. And the idea of Sin’s face when he saw was tantalizing. He glanced down to where a neat box sat, still in the bag Pisti had handed him earlier.

_“What are these?”_

_“You can’t just wear a dress, silly! You’ve got to have shoes.”_

_“Shoes? What do I need shoes for? I’m not leaving the house.”_

_“Trust me. Sinbad will like them. You have to have the shoes.”_

With more than a little trepidation, he grabbed the box and sat on the edge of his and Sin’s bed, slowly pulling off the lid. Almost immediately he balked, nearly dropping the (very expensive) shoes. “Stilettos?” he asked the empty room, sounding almost affronted. “She wants me to wear _stilettos_?” Grace was in his nature, so it was unlikely he’d break his ankles trying to wear them. He was more concerned for his pride, which was less easily repaired than a bone.

But he’d seen Sin’s wandering eyes, the way he slid his gaze along women’s legs when they and their friends went out drinking. He’d never begrudged him looks, so long as he came back to Ja’far’s bed each night. Sinbad was inarguably a leg man, which is why it was beyond the younger man why he stayed with him. His one request to Pisti, when she went to find the dress, was that it had to go down at least to his knees. When she’d argued something that showed more leg would be better, he’d snapped at her, and she’d quickly agreed without asking why. Only Sin knew about the ragged scars on the inside of his thighs, and he’d like to keep it that way, thank you very much.

A quick glance in the mirror, and he raised on his toes, trying to mimic the look of stilettos. Instantly, he understood what the girl had been thinking: the fabric still covered his thighs, falling a few inches below his knees, yet the new position showed off what was visible of his legs, just the way Sin liked. If he wasn’t so frazzled by the situation, he’d probably have to admit she was a genius for thinking of it.

His phone, lying nearby on the dresser, pinged.

[SMS: Ja’far] Don’t bring friends by tonight.

[SMS: Sin] oh?

[SMS: Ja’far] I have a surprise for you.

[SMS: Sin] ten minutes

Ten minutes. Ten minutes, and then Sin would be home, excited to see whatever surprise Ja’far had in store. It was too late to back out now. He took one shoe in hand, turning it this way and that, warring between his pride and driving Sin wild. Now that he thought about it, really, the dress wasn’t all _that_ bad. Perhaps the shoes wouldn’t be as bad as he feared either. Determined, he slipped on first one, then the other, carefully fastening them with hands he would never admit were shaking. Ja’far stood slowly, only wobbling once, before turning to face the mirror once more.

The man in the mirror stared back at him, clearly out of his depth. But besides the wide eyes and slight frown, he looked good. Long fingers smoothed a wrinkle in the skirt of the dress, and he took a tentative step forward, making sure that he would not, in fact, twist his ankle. The feeling of walking that way felt unnatural, but not so strange that he couldn’t get used to it. And, he figured, they wouldn’t be on for long once Sin saw him.

The only thing left to do was wait.

Ja’far found himself wandering around the apartment, which had never seemed so _small_ before. He only took a few steps into the kitchen before hastily backtracking, the sound of heels on tile more than he could handle at the moment. At last he settled against the wall by the bedroom, eyes locked on the front door. After what felt like hours, he heard a key fit into the lock, and the knob began to turn. Ja’far had never been a religious man, but today he felt like praying.

There was a long moment of silence when their eyes met. Ja’far tilted his chin up, as if daring Sinbad to taunt him. Sinbad, on the other hand, was having trouble making his brain work, what with a significant amount of his blood heading south. Forgoing any sort of _hello, how are you, my that’s a nice dress_ , he stalked forward, tugging off his blazer and tie as he went and tossing them aside carelessly. Ja’far kept silent, eyes following his every move.

It was only when the older man reached for his dress that he swung a leg up, pressing the heel of his stiletto dangerously low on the man’s hip bone. Sinbad whined, trying to push his foot away and only succeeding in getting the heel dug deeper against his skin. The slighter man smiled, as if this happened every day. “Good day at work?”

“Ja’far.” The tone in his lover’s voice was dangerous, already tense. If he’d known a simple article of clothing would have this much effect on the man, Ja’far would have donned a dress ages ago. Of course, he wasn’t done riling the violet-haired man up. Not by a long shot. He twisted his ankle slightly, causing Sin to yelp and back off by half an inch.

“I asked if you had a good day at work,” the younger man reminded him, keeping his tone light. “My day off was good, in case you were wondering.”

“I can see that,” Sin murmured, looking down the line of Ja’far’s body. He lingered on the man’s leg, still poised against his hip, just long enough to make his lover blush and try to swing it back down. Sinbad grabbed him before he could, pinning his ankle to a much more comfortable place against his side. “Why’d you do that? I wasn’t done looking yet.”

Ja’far scowled, looking away. “I don’t like you looking. You know that.” Tanned, calloused fingers moved up from his ankle, causing him to take a sharp breath in.

“But I love to look. You’ve got such lovely legs, you really should show them off more.”

“I’ll show them off however much I like, thanks,” Ja’far snapped, wrenching his leg away again, this time with more success. It did, however, mean that the barrier between their bodies was gone, a fact Sin took immediate advantage of. He pressed in close, looping his arms around the pale man’s waist and holding him fast.

“You do that. It means that I’m the only one who gets to see them, so that’s a plus.”

Ja’far opened his mouth to argue, only for Sin to kiss him firmly. Honestly, he hadn’t expected anything else, and he’d be hard pressed to say that he minded. His fingers scrabbled with the older man’s hair tie, snapping it apart in his rush and allowing purple hair to cascade over his fingers. Sin laughed, light and breathless, moving to kiss the pale column of Ja’far’s neck. “I liked that tie. I ought to punish you for that.” His voice was lower, smooth like the silk of the smaller man’s dress, and Ja’far shivered, a tiny moan escaping his lips. His lover merely laughed again, tugging Ja’far’s legs up and coaxing him to wrap them around his waist. “C’mon. Bedroom.”

Ja’far could hardly argue, burying his face against Sin’s neck and nipping at his skin while he was carried over to the bed. The older man laid him down carefully before straightening up again, undoing the buttons of his shirt with practiced ease. Ja’far, not one to be left out, followed him up and started unbuckling his belt, normally graceful fingers tripping over themselves in their haste. As soon as both belt and shirt were shed, Sin grabbed Ja’far’s chin, tilting his face up to capture his lips in a heated kiss. The younger man leaned up as far as he could, grabbing Sin’s shoulders and tugging him down closer. It was perfect – hot and rushed and passionate and _perfect_. He might not always agree with Sin, but he always loved him, always loved the way his golden eyes shone with mirrored devotion.

The older man pushed him back down against the bed gently, slipping out of his pants and boxers before straddling his hips. Ja’far squirmed, earning him a light slap against his thigh, right where the desensitized scar tissue gave way to oversensitive skin. He gasped, rolling his hips up against Sinbad without thinking. The man leaned over him, grinning. “Look at you. You’re absolutely gorgeous, Ja’far.” The younger man turned red, trying to turn his face away to hide his embarrassment. “I mean it. Someday you’re going to believe me.”

“Someday pigs might fly,” Ja’far shot back, but there was no venom to it. As bad as he was at accepting compliments, he appreciated every one that Sinbad gave him. But he would not let this be ruined by his self-esteem; instead, he turned to face Sin again and kissed him hard, one hand moving to cup the back of the older man’s neck. Sinbad gave in easily, as he knew he would; the larger man could never resist his kisses.

Sin’s hand soon began creeping up Ja’far’s dress, sliding up his thigh along the edge of a scar. Too far gone to think about it, Ja’far merely spread his legs with a quiet moan, receiving an approving hum from Sinbad for his trouble. The older man sat back to fully push up the skirt of his dress, looking up at Ja’far’s face with raised eyebrows when he found no underwear beneath. Ja’far’s blush returned in full force as he defended himself. “I knew where this was going to lead, what was the point of wearing something nice?”

“What’s the point indeed?” Sin echoed, smiling as he shifted down the bed, nuzzling at the juncture of his hip and thigh. Ja’far resisted the urge to raise his hips, urging Sin to get on with it. The man seemed to get the message anyway, taking the younger man’s length into his mouth. Ja’far sighed gratefully, eyes sliding shut as he began to bob his head, nailed digging into Ja’far’s hips in a way that was one part pain, three parts pleasure.

He could feel the pressure building, moving him closer and closer towards falling off the edge, until he tugged at his lover’s hair, forcing him to move off his cock. Sinbad made a confused noise, looking up at him with curiosity (and more than a bit of frustration). “I went through trouble to get this dress,” Ja’far informed him, hauling him back up the bed so that their chests were pressed together. “And if this ends before you can fuck me, I won’t forgive you.” Sin laughed, kissing him deeply before rolling to one side and rifling through the bedside drawer.

Ja’far tilted his head back, catching his breath while Sinbad looked for the lube. It somehow seemed like both hours and no time at all passed before Sin was kneeling between his legs again, golden eyes bright. He poured out some liquid over his fingers, slicking them well before slowly pressing them against the younger man’s entrance. The first time they’d done this, it’d hurt; now it was a familiar burn, one he wished his body would get adjusted to faster so they could get to the fun part.

But Sin would never hurt him, never pushed his body too fast, so he was forced to wait the agonizing moments until his body relaxed enough to allow a second finger and then a third. All the while, Sinbad mapped the contours of his body with his free hand, running up his leg to his side, rubbing at his nipple through the fabric (and _oh_ , wasn’t that an experience?), continuing up to his sharp collarbones. It made him feel both adored and frighteningly vulnerable all at once, until he was once again squirming and glaring up at his lover. “I’m ready for you, come on, Sin!”

The older man smiled, leaning down to press a lingering kiss to his lips. “Alright, alright. Calm down, handsome.” Before Ja’far could protest the pet name (having already banned things like _babe_ and _sweetheart_ long ago), Sin had slicked himself up and was slowly pressing in, taking all the air from Ja’far’s lungs as he did. He let out a loud moan, nails scrabbling for purchase against Sin’s chest. Violet hair fell around them like a curtain as he started to move, slow at first but quickly picking up pace.

Soon he was being mercilessly pounded into, Sinbad’s hands holding his hips hard enough to bruise, and what a gorgeous sight that would be against his pale skin. Their voices tangled together in a mix of loud moans from Ja’far and lower praise from Sin, jumbling into a cacophony of pleasure. The older man sat up, pulling Ja’far with him, and the deeper angle had him crying out and holding on for dear life. Sinbad bit the pale skin of Ja’far’s neck, making sure he was thoroughly marked and completely assaulted by sensation. The combination of everything had his orgasm crashing over him quickly, head tilted back to make sure Sin had all the room he needed to claim his lover. It was only a few more thrusts before Sinbad followed, coming hard with a low groan.

The following quiet was unexpected, sounds of sex suddenly replaced with quiet panting as Sin pulled out and laid Ja’far on the bed, curling up against his side with a pleased hum. Ja’far threw a hand over his eyes, small shudders still wracking his body as the aftershocks of his orgasm passed. “Such a shame,” Sinbad muttered after a moment, wrapping a strong arm around Ja’far’s waist. The younger man peeked out from under his fingers, expression clear that he didn’t know what Sin was talking about. “We’ve stained your dress. It looks like we’ll have to buy you a new one.”

Ja’far hummed, finding it impossible to be mad at the moment. “Yeah,” he agreed, cuddling close to his lover. “Maybe one. Maybe more.”

**Author's Note:**

> My first actual smut fic. Not the first smut I've written, but the first full fic, and it involves Ja'far in a dress. I'm so happy this day, readers.
> 
> Side note, this is the dress Ja'far is wearing: http://bit.ly/1BYjI4p
> 
> Come join me at PrinceNicoDiAngelo.tumblr.com (or anxioushamster.co.vu, it all links back to the same place!).


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